


The Proper Name for Things

by Philosophizes



Series: Bad Decisions Series Backstory Fics [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Family Fluff, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-02-09 11:33:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1981362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Philosophizes/pseuds/Philosophizes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ludwig and Feliciano acquire a baby, and there are lots of opinions about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Proper Name for Things

Marlies Fueur had known Ludwig Beilschmidt and Feli Vargas for most of her fifty-eight years of life. She’d been sixteen, newly kicked out of the house and performing in gay bars to survive, when she met Feli in Cologne. The beautiful woman who hung around the drag queens Marlies had been lumped with by default had been the same sort of different, and she’d found Felizitas entrancing. One terrible night, Marlies had been out with Felizitas and there were _people_ and then Felizitas was _dead_ and one phone call, a number pulled from Feli’s purse because the police were worse than murders, brought Ludwig Beilschmidt and Feliciano and Nations into her life.

That wasn’t the sort of thing you could walk away from, and she’d gotten a job in Bonn because her new friends had connections and the ability to acquire paperwork that didn’t say ‘Georg Fueur’ on it, and prodded them when they were being _stupid_ about liking each other; followed them to Berlin in the 90s, hosted the second celebration of their dubiously-legal civil partnership, and, most recently, kept explaining to them how to be human.

Apparently, a phone call at one in the morning was part of the ongoing conversation. The cell phone on her nightstand was vibrating insistently, and the call pop-up notification read ‘Ludwig’.

She reached over, missed the phone, and got it on the second try, pulling it under the covers with her.

“Marlies-”

“How do you take care of a baby?” Ludwig demanded, in the hard, blunt tone Marlies had learned meant _‘help me no one’s told me what I’m supposed to do so I’m panicking’_.

“What.”

“I found one. _We_ found one,” he amended. “Were left one. I was doing paperwork, and then Gilbert came back for the night, and started yelling about how there was a _baby_ left at our door and she was _cold_ and _quiet_ and Feli made me hold her and then they _left_ to get diapers and food and- things. Baby things. I don’t know. She’s awake but she’s not crying. Don’t babies cry? Is something wrong with her? _You_ know about babies-”

“I cannot _believe_ the things you people get yourselves into,” she told him flatly. “If she’s not crying, she’s probably fine.”

“But what if she’s too weak to cry?” Ludwig asked worriedly.

“You said she’s awake?”

“Yes.”

“Does she move?”

There were a couple minutes of silence.

“If I touch her, she does.”

“When Feli and Gilbert get back, make sure you feed her,” Marlies told him. “If she can manage that, she should be fine. But get her to a doctor soon. Just be gentle, Ludwig, and you’ll be fine.”

* * *

Ludwig _really_ wished Feli and Gilbert had stopped to listen before dashing out the door. Gilbert had probably been home all of three minutes, which was approximately the time it took for Feli to barrel down the stairs, exclaim worriedly over the tiny human left on their doorstep, command Ludwig into sitting down on the couch and holding the baby, and drag Gilbert back to his car and off to the store.

The baby had been very quiet, and still, and cold when he’d first held her. She wasn’t dead, which was a very large relief, but now she was blinking sleepily up at him through the shadow of the blanket wrapped around them both, and she _wasn’t crying._

Babies were supposed to cry, weren’t they? All the time? When they were uncomfortable or hungry or cold or wanted to be held or got scared, and Ludwig wasn’t her mother or father or parent and she’d been outside in the February night for who _knew_ how long  so she should hungry and cold and scared, right?

Ludwig did _not_ know what to do with a baby. He’d tried bouncing her a little, because he had the vague sense that was one of those things you _did_ with babies, but she seemed alarmingly light and boneless and floppy so he’d stopped immediately. Singing was another option, but that was just embarrassing.

“Hello?” he settled on, because talking was probably a safe bet. “How are you?”

 The baby curled up on herself.

“Am I too loud?” he asked, dropping his voice. “I’m sorry.”

A tentative touch to her hand proved her pretty warm.

“Well, you aren’t freezing any more. That must be nice.”

She tipped her head into his chest.

“I’m not your mother,” Ludwig said, feeling silly. “I’m Ludwig. I don’t know where your parents are. Or who they are. But I guess they couldn’t take care of you. I don’t know why they left you _here,_ but this _is_ technically government property, and the land and house are probably worth a great deal, so maybe they thought we were important government people.”

He paused. The paperwork in his study was the forms needed to change the ownership on the house and plot from _‘The Federal Republic of Germany’_ to _‘Ludwig Beilschmidt’._ It still felt wrong to divide the two so distinctly; and he couldn’t help but feel that Gilbert should have been listed somewhere on them. This _had_ been his house, after Brandenburg had died.

“ _Still_ important government people. But there are adoption programs for this sort of thing. Maybe your mother was scared something bad would happen if she went for help.”

That bore investigating. There were places where you _could_ leave an unwanted newborn baby, but even those were of debatable legal status. It wasn’t like his house was a hospital, or a childcare center.

“I should call someone. I know the man in charge of these things.”

Ludwig felt a bit like he was rambling, because explaining things to a baby seemed a bit absurd. But language skills were important.

“This might count as leaving your child in the charge of a third party. I don’t think I count as the state anymore, so there’s a lot of dubious legal ground here. _You,_ little one, are a complication.”

He immediately felt bad about that. Children shouldn’t be a complication. Children should be cared for, and loved, and know they were the recipient of both. _‘Complication’_ sounded like _‘unwanted’_ ; which was a very short step to _‘unloved’_.

“We’ll have to see what happens in eight weeks,” Ludwig told her, providing the legal minimum age of adoption. If no one came back for her by then, she’d be the responsibility of the state. “Maybe your parents needed some time.”

* * *

The next few hours passed in a bit of a rush. Feli and Gilbert came back with diapers and formula and bottles and a car seat and baby clothes. Feli made up a bottle and took the baby from Ludwig, who felt a bit better after that.

Ludwig went back to his study and called the Federal Prosecutor General. Jonathan laughed at him when he explained about the baby, which Ludwig felt was _completely_ unfair, and told him this sort of thing wasn’t actually his job but he’d handle it; get the rest of your legal paperwork done, _Herr_ Beilschmidt, I need to file it, thank you again for losing all conventionally-accepted markers of Nationhood and making such an interesting legal conundrum for me to sort out.

Jonathan hung up on him, leaving Ludwig to go back to the rest of his family and get a late breakfast sorted. The baby had fallen asleep with the bottle, but woke up as they were cleaning the table, and started fussing. She wouldn’t quiet for Gilbert or Feliciano, both of whom had previously tried lording their childcare capacities, courtesy of centuries of royal families or at least a tendency towards the same families turning up again and again, over Ludwig.

Of course, then, the one she _liked_ was Ludwig. Gilbert made a joke about _‘The Fatherland’,_ which faltered when they remembered that they weren’t actually Nations any longer- and not because it was a terrible joke, though Ludwig staunchly maintained that it _was_. Feli just looked at him with the baby and said: “But you’d be a good father, Ludwig.”

That was probably where the trouble started.

* * *

Jonathan called them back after what passed for lunch, and Ludwig picked up, still holding the baby.

“You know, surprisingly enough, I don’t think this has ever happened before,” the Federal Prosecutor General told him. “It’s not like there are a lot of records on you people in the _first_ place, but I thought it would be a nice convenience that _someone_ would have thought of before.”

“Usually we don’t put about our home addresses,” Ludwig told him. “I think they might actually be classified. It’s not like people really _care_ about finding us.”

“Well, what we’ve got is essentially the same problem as always- are you a Nation or not, and what that says about the legal status of your humanity. The legal status of a Nation doesn’t actually _exist,_ beyond laws in various countries citing attacks on you as treason. Everything else is formalities, tradition, and unspoken assumptions. Whatever the lawyers of the world say _now,_ in the wake of whatever happened to you, codifies the legal status of Nations _and_ humans. Humanity has never needed a legal definition before now, it’s been taken for granted. I could radically change the parameters for it, depending on how I classify you from now on.”

Jonathan sounded positively _gleeful_ at that.

“The property you’re _on,_ though, is still government property, since you haven’t turned in your paperwork yet.”

“It’s almost done,” Ludwig said automatically.

“If anyone took this to court, which I don’t think anyone _would,_ I’m fairly certain that the case could be reasonably made for the government being the third party. _Practically,_ since you live there, _you’re_ the third party. And if the mother comes to reclaim the baby within the legal window, her child should be where she left it.”

“Are you telling me we have to keep the baby?”

“I’m telling you I’m not sending anyone to come pick her up.”

* * *

Ludwig got to break the news that they were keeping the baby for at _least_ the next two months, since he rather doubted Jonathan would put much effort into relocating her after the minimum timeframe when there was already a household with more than adequate space, money, and time; and with background checks completely unnecessary because the government already knew everything.

When he said as much, Gilbert gave the baby a sardonic look and said: “May as well just adopt her _now,_ then.”

Ludwig said: “We _can’t,_ she’s not eight weeks old yet and-” and the same time Feliciano grabbed his arm and _looked_ at him, asking quietly: “Can we?”

“I wasn’t serious,” Gilbert amended hastily; while Ludwig realized that _‘she’s not eight weeks old yet’_ wasn’t actually a _‘no’_ , and he wasn’t certain he wanted it to be.

Ludwig and Feli looked at each other.

“We should talk about it first,” Ludwig said weakly. “Children are an important responsibility.”

“ _Jonathan_ seems very relaxed about it,” Gilbert muttered.

“She’s staying so she needs a name,” Feliciano declared. “I’m going to call her Maria.”

“Really, _Maria?_ ” Gilbert asked, completely unimpressed. _“Really?”_

Feliciano gave him a haughty look.

“It’s a perfectly respectable name with fine background. And Ludwig can choose a name too, because he’d be the one adopting.”

“Gilbert could,” Ludwig said, feeling the need to defend the implied slight to his brother. “He raised _me._ ”

“Lutz, I’m mostly convinced none of our government actually believes that.”

“But you were _good_ at it.”

Gilbert looked uncomfortable at that pronouncement, but merely answered with: “Well, Jonathan’s handling it, and he trusts you. It’d be your name on the adoption papers regardless; and Feli can’t. He’s not a citizen. And even if the court ruled your civil partnership legal, you couldn’t do it jointly.”

“We haven’t actually decided to adopt _anyone,_ ” Ludwig felt compelled to point out.

Feli took the baby- Maria- from him, and Gilbert shoved in the direction of the door.

“Go and think about it,” his brother ordered. “Go see Marlies or Franziska or something. And come up with a name.”

* * *

Thankfully, Marlies was where she usually was in the afternoons- Zuckerküche, on Motzstraβe in Schöneberg. Less thankfully, Zuckerküche was where most of the humans Ludwig, Feli, and Gilbert knew outside of work were, and Marlies knew them _all._

“You have a baby?” was the immediate question from Hanne, the main waitstaff.

“We are currently _watching_ a baby,” Ludwig said, and Hanne just gave him a look and went to get his coffee.

He sat down across the table from Marlies, and in short order he had both coffee and two more tables pushed against his.

“What’s this about a baby?” Anja demanded. “I was out with Gilbert last night, there was nothing about a baby _then._ ”

“You’re holding out on us,” Marcel accused.

“Feli knows better than to do that,” Franziska added.

“It was a _surprise,_ ” Ludwig told them all, exasperated. “Someone left her on our doorstep instead of finding a Babyklappe or giving her up properly for adoption.”

“She’s alright?” Marlies asked.

“Much better, thank you.”

Hanne came back with Sven and Adalet, the part-time servers.

“If you don’t tell us about this baby,” Hanne threatened. “I’m making Sven text Pascal.”

“Oh, _save us_ from Pascal,” Marcel muttered into his cup.

“Lay off,” Saskia ordered, elbowing him. “Hanne, Sven, Adalet, you have _jobs._ ”

“You’re not working either, Boss,” Hanne said mildly.

“Ludwig’s baby is _important,_ ” Sven added.

“She’s not my baby,” Ludwig protested, noting the lack of force in his assertion.

“Have you told Philipp?” Franziska asked.

“Are you _sure_ she’s not your baby?” Marlies pressed, shrewd as ever.

“No, we _haven’t_ told Philipp, Philipp doesn’t work for me anymore-”

“Philipp is _here,_ by the way,” the man in question said, ambling over to the table that was quickly gathering more people. “Thanks ever so much for putting me out of work, _Herr Bundesrepublik_. Emil said Esther told him it was important to be here?”

  “There’s nothing _to_ tell,” Ludwig continued, ignoring his former secretary for the moment. “Except Jonathan and Feli seem dead set on making us _keep_ her!”

“Jonathan?” Saskia asked as Marlies responded with: “Ludwig, do _you_ want to keep the baby?”

Ludwig had coffee to put off talking.

“Jonathan is the Federal Prosecutor General,” Philipp put in. _“Baby?”_

The others filled him in while Ludwig finished his coffee and handed the empty cup to Sven for a refill.

“Somehow, I am _still_ surprised by your life,” Philipp told him, and shoved a chair between his former boss and Franziska. Marlies, ever the matriarch of Motzstraβe and the surrounding environs, shooed people off until it was just her, Philipp, Franziska, and Anja. Adalet took advantage of her status as Former-Intern-to-the-Office-of-Ludwig-(and Gilbert)-Beilschmidt to sit down on the job, stealing Saskia’s chair.

“Ludwig?” Marlies asked, waiting for an answer to her question.

“I don’t know if I want to keep her,” he admitted. “Feli does. He asked already, even though she’s not anywhere _near_ old enough to adopt. I’ve never thought about having a family like that; about raising children. It’s not a Nation thing.”

“Neither was your civil ceremony,” Adalet said. “But you managed that.”

“That’s _different._ Feli and I were already that way. Franziska and Anja are the ones who mentioned it first, anyway.”

“You’re _welcome,_ ” Anja said.

“Gilbert raised you,” Philipp said, sounding a touch confused.

Ludwig sighed.

“When there’s a new Nation, sometimes you took them in. I had Prussia. I was _lucky_ \- he was working to build me up, not keep me small, or trying to kill me.”

“I don’t like your life,” Marlies said, not for the first time. Ludwig gave her one of those heavy looks that made him seem old, and immeasurably weary.

“You’ve got time,” Marcel assured him. “Two whole months.”

“Children are important,” Ludwig said firmly. “They are a responsibility, which should be handled with the appropriate amount of sincerity, conviction, and dedication.”

“You are _definitely_ serious enough for it, Ludwig,” Franziska said dryly.

“They sent me out of the house,” he told them after a moment. “To think about it. Feli’s already named her Maria, and he wants me to contribute one as well.”

“I like Amalie,” Philipp volunteered.

“You should go with something classic,” Anja said. “Victoria. Antonia. Katarina.”

“Freiderich III _and_ Wilhelm II had daughters named Victoria. Spain is Antonio and getting married to Feli’s brother; and Ukraine is Kateryna,” Ludwig said. “No.”

“Something _really_ German?” Franziska suggested, pulling things up on her phone. “Irmingard? Gertrud? Deitlinde?”

“Gertrud is a terrible name. Hanover was Deitlinde. I’m sure _someone_ was Irmingard.”

“Bernadine?”

“Braunschweig.”

“Charlotte?”

“Another daughter of Freiderich III, _and_ Belgium. It depends what language she’s using.”

“Elisabeth.”

“Liechtenstein is Liesl and Hungary is Erzsébet,” Adalet put in.

“Adalaide,” Marlies said firmly.

“That was Feliciano’s wife,” Ludwig said, and everyone stared at him.

“Feli had a _wife?_ ” Anja asked, shocked.

“The Kingdom of Lombardy-Venezia,” he told her. “Adalaide was the Lombards and then Lombardy. I think she might have killed one of the Italians; no one will _tell_ me about the Italian city-states. Feliciano was the only one who tolerated her.”

“Luitgard sounds kind of like Ludwig-” Franziska said, trying to rally. Non-Nation friends sometimes took their personal history badly.

“Luitgard was _Gilbert’s_ wife. Brandenburg. Do _not_ suggest Luise, _both_ of the Wilhelms named a daughter after me; and one of them was also one of the Victorias.”

“You are _impossible,_ ” Philipp complained.

“Something Biblical, since you already have Maria,” Anja posited. “Rachel? Anna?”

“Israel is Rahel, Anna is too common.”

“Sofie?” Philipp asked hopefully, picking up the thread.

“ _Another_ princess.”

“Eva?”

Ludwig winced.

“Eva Braun. _Absolutely_ not.”

 _“Francine,”_ Philipp said, just to be perverse. “Alfreda. Natalia.”

 “You _could_ name her after family,” Adalet offered. “Hungary wouldn’t mind at all.”

“It _is_ traditional,” Marlies agreed.

* * *

“Gisela,” Ludwig announced suddenly, some weeks later, after Decisions had been made.

“Hm?” Feli asked, distracted with entertaining the baby in Gilbert’s arms that would, in the near future, get a proper birth certificate and come home to stay.

“That’s what I’m naming her,” he said. “You asked me to. So Gisela.”

Feliciano turned it over silently in his mouth a few times, then beamed.

 _“Ludwig!”_ he gushed, happy in only the way someone who had heard language evolve could be over this. “You named her after Gilbert!”

Gilbert froze, backtracking to the common Ancient Germanic root of both names.

“You’re my brother,” Ludwig said quietly. “You gave me everything you had, _protected_ me, when everyone would have said you had the right to destroy me.”

“Lutz…” he said awkwardly, trailing off.

“And every name was already taken by someone else I’ve known, or another Nation at some point,” Ludwig continued, feeling slightly embarrassed now. “I might as well give her one I have good associations with.”

Feliciano took the baby from Gilbert and prodded him towards his brother, smiling widely.

“You hear that, _cara_?” he cooed at her as Ludwig and Gilbert got down to the emotionally-fraught business of hugging. “Your _Vati_ named you after his brother! Our little Maria Gisela.”


End file.
